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Wednesday, May 25, 2011

Despite what the preview might show you, this totally isn't an erotica. *looks uncomfortable*

I leaned over, biting my lip and almost holding my breath. My hands worked as I tried to manoeuvre in the right ways to get full access to the darker parts of my subject. The girl beside me looked at me, lips turned up in a smile.

"You're good at stripping, right?"

"Yes, actually. But you should probably take care of attaching stuff while I'm doing that."

After a few twists and turns and manipulations, we locked eyes.

"Almost there. . ."

"Yes!"

There was a dazzling burst of light.

I was wiring a circuit, what did you think?

Whilst trying to twist two wires together inside a box and failing miserably, I was asked if I could switch to stripping the plastic coating off of some wires, because I'm a good stripper, while she attached the light bulbs to each other. Then we stuck on the battery, and the light bulbs turned on.

We only realized the hidden depths of our interactions afterwards.

A second conversation with a guy who's kind of a dick phallus.

Him: (referring to another kid, joking) So, Gabi, do you think I should kill him?

Me: Depends on the weapon. You need to optimize the amount of pain experienced by your victim in the process.

Him: O.o Okay. . .

Me: You see, it has to be painful enough for them to really suffer as they slowly die, but not too painful, because you need to be able to justify yourself in court.

Him: O.o

Me: You have to be careful when taking vengeance on people!

Everyone else in the room: O.o

Me: Nobody gets my sense of humour. I understand!

After these two snippets, I feel like I should be writing nerdy sadomasochist erotica or something.

I can do terrible, erotic things to you with my erlenmeyer flask and Geiger Müller counter, b*tch.

Or maybe I should never, ever do that.

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On another less creepy note, happy Towel Day! It's a day in honour of Douglas Adams, who was brilliant. He has also greatly contributed to those funny post titles I sometimes have, the ones in quotation marks that I'm not superhuman enough to come up with.

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Question:

Where do animals go when it pours, on those days where every nook and cranny is filled with rainwater? I've been told that the answer lies in Bambi, but as I was not subjected to that in my Disneyless childhood, I'd prefer to keep avoiding dying deer.